


The Fallacy of Us

by daddybek



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Eventual Smut, Heartbreak, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Pining, Slow Burn, they live in London and otabek has reading glasses, what more could you want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 03:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10688742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daddybek/pseuds/daddybek
Summary: Amicable exes Yuri and Otabek have been living together post-breakup for about a year, but when Otabek brings a date home for the first time, Yuri is horrified by the way his stomach drops.Maybe he’s not as over Beka as he thought.





	The Fallacy of Us

**Author's Note:**

> _"This is why if you want to kiss you should kiss._   
>  _If you want to cry you should cry, and_   
>  _If you want to live you should live._   
>  _You don’t have to love me. You already did._   
>  _At least enough to keep me smiling from South Carolina to Virginia._   
>  _It's for lovers (orjustfriends)_
> 
> _This is why I do it."_
> 
>    
> -GRR III, 25.06.06

They had met in such a ridiculous, lovey-dovey, romcom sort of way that Yuri always knew that their love was too good to be true. 

It was a rainy fall afternoon in the middle of October. Otabek’s favourite time of year.

Always in a rush _(“too abrasive, too flighty, too restless”)_ , Yuri had left his tiny London flat that day without an umbrella. Waiting tables wasn’t the most glamorous job in the world, but Yuri had felt particularly un-glamorous by the time he left his shift, his bun falling loose and letting damp, golden locks of hair fly in the wind and stick to his frozen cheeks. 

He made a mad dash for the underground, satchel bag slung over his shoulder, hissing every obscenity and cursing every god he could think of for what could only be described as the unholy weather. He was absolutely drenched within seconds, his black clothes clinging to his lithe body and absolutely freezing to the bones. Pushing past pedestrians _(happy couples with their stupid umbrellas)_ and running as fast as his legs could take him, he kept his eyes fixed on the little green man indicating he could cross the road. Almost, _almost_ –

But not quite.

With an exasperated cry and a childish kick to the nearby post, Yuri wrapped his arms around his wet body and glared at nothing in particular, because _of fucking course_ he didn’t make it. Just his fucking luck. He nudged the button with his elbow, keeping his head downcast as to avoid raindrops hitting him in the face, shivering with cold and tapping his fingers against his arms impatiently. Taking a few moments to consider how much he really valued his shitty student life and if it would be worth trying to dodge the 5pm traffic, he barely registered that the rain had stopped. Around him, anyway. With a furrowed brow, Yuri whipped his head up and turned to face the presence besides him.

And there he was.

Yuri still remembers the flip of his stomach, and how his breath caught in his throat just a little bit. 

With a blank expression on his _(perfect, sculpted, I-could-fall-in-love-with-this-guy-right-now)_ face, the dark-haired stranger extended his black umbrella forward to shield Yuri from the downpour. If the world kept spinning, Yuri didn’t notice. The confusion and accusatory expression on his face fell away immediately, taking in every feature of the man as if a goddamn miracle was taking place right before him.

Looking back, Yuri supposes there was.

Dark hair, freshly shaved at the sides with a short strand falling over his forehead. Warm _(always so, so warm)_ eyes and sharp brows, framed by black glasses untouched by the rain. A strong jaw. Tanned skin. A white button up and a dark brown sweater. 

And his umbrella.

“Here,” spoke the angel.

Yuri hadn’t meant to stare.

Unable to continue looking at someone who burned so goddamn bright, Yuri lowered his head again and instead stared at the man’s oxford shoes. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, voice a lot softer than he remembered it sounding in his head just moments ago. Suddenly Yuri couldn’t remember why he had been so frazzled in the first place. 

For a while it was only that; the man’s oxford shoes and the sound of the rain, when the familiar beeping of the pedestrian crossing came through.

“Walk with me,” the man said, patiently waiting for Yuri to come back down to earth. It was a firm and gentle command all at once, and Yuri did nothing but nod before he remembered how to use his legs.

He hadn’t expected the stranger to walk him across the road, much less all the way to the station. They had walked in what Yuri had thought was a mildly awkward silence, though the man didn’t show any signs of being uncomfortable at all. Yet Yuri for the life of him couldn’t think of anything to say. What are you supposed to say to a man with an I-could-fall-in-love-with-this-guy-right-now face?

Outside the underground, in the heavy rain and having spent a few minutes with the surprising amount of intimacy the cover of an umbrella can provide, they had stood together. Lingered. Yuri didn’t know if it was his stubborn nature or his increasing nerves, but he still couldn’t find words.

But he didn’t have to.

“Otabek Altin,” came that wonderfully deep voice.

So. The angel had a name.

“Yuri,” the Russian eventually replied, finally mustering up the courage to turn his green eyes up to the man’s face again, only to meet the softest smile there. 

Yuri’s heart definitely skipped a beat.

Silence stretched between the strangers once again, and much to Yuri’s alarm, Otabek bowed his head in respect as he turned to leave. A surge of urgency struck through Yuri then, pushing him to say something – anything – to make the man stay.

“Have coffee with me,” he blurted out, his fists clenched and determined eyes fixed on Otabek’s, still drenched but suddenly uncaring of it all, or his shitty job, or his shitty student loans. 

Worried he had made a fool of himself with the sudden demand, all nerves eased away when the man simply stood up straight, shook the rain from his umbrella, and agreed.

“I’d love to.”

And so one coffee turned to three, a shared muffin on the side, and the exchange of phone numbers. 

Though he’s thought about their meeting thousands of times before, Yuri still can’t quite believe how or why the universe pushed them together like that. Two strangers out in rainy London, all the way from Russia and Kazakhstan, meeting in the middle of fall and together by New Year.

19 years old, and Yuri Plisetsky was head over heels in love. 

He can recall every monumental moment shared with Otabek in such vividness that they all could have very well been yesterday: their first kiss, their first time, their first night in their new apartment.

Their first fight.

Their _last_ fight.

Somehow that supposed miracle had managed to slip away, fading all too quickly until there weren’t any firsts anymore.

Well, that’s not entirely true. There was their first night sleeping apart. Their first time having a tensely quiet breakfast together. Their first time laughing at a tentative joke. 

The first time Yuri hugged Otabek and didn’t feel that hopeless, longing ache for him anymore.

They had learned to live together yet apart, and by the time Yuri’s 21st fall rolled by, he couldn’t even remember what it had previously been like to _want_ Otabek Altin the way he did before.

His roommate. His best friend.

The man with the black umbrella and an I-could-fall-in-love-with-this-guy-right-now face. 

Indeed. Yuri Plisetsky and Otabek Altin had been far too good to be true.

**Author's Note:**

> hi so i was super nervous writing this but i'm also super hyped to finally get it started! hit me up @daddybek on tumblr for hopefully less pain


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